Organ Harvest

This is no ordinary mortician or mortuary
In the graveyard late at night, digging ditches, do it right
Pay off the undertaker, the Presbyterian and the Quaker
To obtain the parts that we need to sell, for sure we’ll go to Hell

Tourists stealing marrow from the dead, lively as a sparrow they said
Worth more in the freezer than the mausoleum

Secret chamber chop shop, dissection going non-stop
Prop them up with PVC, stitch ‘em up, no one will see
Fiends of formaldehyde, descendants of Frankenstein
Will Cooke’s bones ever turn up somewhere? Before the cremation they were there.

Grinders, hacksaws, blades, scalpels in the shade
Building blocks we steal, cut the membrane, cut a deal
Livers, kidneys, limbs, heart valves, hair and skin
Dig, dissect and deal, rob the worms of every meal